


Quiet Music

by holdyourbreathfornow



Series: HYBFN Freak Fam Stuff [5]
Category: Freak Fam - Fandom
Genre: Angst/Comfort, Multi, late night feels discussions, more soft than anything, musical abilities, self doubt, tenderness the likes of which I wish I had
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 18:48:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdyourbreathfornow/pseuds/holdyourbreathfornow
Summary: Shirk’s finished a hit early and decides to play a song.  He just forgot Disaster was on her way home too...





	Quiet Music

The elevator dinged open and Disaster sighed, pushing herself off from the wall and walking down the hall. Today had been an exceedingly long day for her and she was tired enough that even her bones felt like they were sloshing around under her skin.

She had the apartment to herself tonight, since Shirk was out on a hit and Vinny and Ace were out in the desert for awhile, hiding out after a close call with the Los Santos Police Department. That was exactly why Disaster’s day had been so long. She’d been in meetings, both legal and illegal, doing her best to get the newest charge expunged from her date mates’ records.

She had planned to get into the apartment and just collapse into bed, but as she got closer to the apartment, she started hearing music, which made her pull up short, stopping just outside the door of her apartment and carefully laying one hand on the wood so she could lean in.

From behind the door, she could hear the strumming of an old acoustic guitar, which she pretended not to know Shirk stored behind a false wall panel. He had some hang-up about any of the rest of them hearing him play, and Disaster had done her best to respect his wishes.

But now, she could hear his rough voice singing quietly, too quietly for her to make out the words. But the song sounded almost like a lullaby, and Disaster leaned against the door a little more, taking that moment, after everything that she’d had to do today, to breathe and relax incrementally. 

She had almost fallen asleep against the door when the music stopped and she could hear Shirk rummaging around inside. She pushed off from the door and combed her hair out with her fingers, making sure it looked like she’d only just gotten home. Just as she was reaching for the doorknob, the door swung open and Shirk leaned against the frame, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised as he stared down at her. 

Disaster graced him with a tired smile and went up on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek, Shirk having to lean down to close the distance.

“Hi, Shirk. I thought you were out on your hit?” The man shrugged and stood aside to let Disaster into the apartment, watching quietly as she kicked her heels off and hung her jacket on the row of hooks by the door.

“I finished early.” He told her when she’d finished setting all her stuff down, and followed her into the kitchen. “How was your day?”

“Long.” She groaned and Shirk huffed a laugh, pushing Disaster into one of the chairs at the table as he started making her a cup of coffee. She pulled her foot into her lap and started massaging at the sore muscles, yawning quietly as she did so. 

“So did anything interesting happen today?” Shirk asked, setting Disaster’s cup down in front of her and settling into a chair with his own. Disaster paused, probably longer than she should’ve. If she was very, very lucky, Shirk didn’t know she’d heard him playing.

“I had to meet with a cop and then I had to shoot him, but other than that, it was pretty much same old, same old.”

Shirk stared at her over the rim of his cup and she didn’t fidget or flinch, especially after all the training he’d put her through in case of interrogations.

“So how long were you standing outside the door for?” Disaster’s shoulders sagged and she sat back in her chair. The gig was up. He knew.

“Long enough.” She said quietly and Shirk rolled his neck, looking even more tired than Disaster felt.

“I didn’t want you hearing me play.” He said finally, after a long pause. “And yet as soon as you heard me playing, you just stood there and listened.”

“Because you play beautifully.” Disaster told him. She reached across the table and Shirk let her lace their fingers together. “And because I don’t understand why you don’t like us hearing you play.”

“There was a period of time where it was just Alandria and I… And my guitar.” Shirk settled in to tell a story and Disaster rested her chin on her laced fingers, watching him.

“It wasn’t really a guitar anymore by the time I’d gotten my hands on it, you know? It was just a wood box with strings. But it still made the right noises and everything, so I took some of the spare money I’d saved up and I snagged it from the pawn store window. 

When Alandria and I weren’t on the move, weren’t on the run, then I practiced every night, like it was my religion. Alandria made me play her lullabies at night and happy songs during the day.

And then the Beasts picked us up, and I didn’t have time for music anymore. They made me a killer, and I had to get us out of there. I had to leave that shitty little guitar behind, and I thought that that part of me was gone forever.”

He looked down at the acoustic in his lap and played a quiet chord. Disaster sighed and smiled at him, even though he wasn’t looking at her.

“Maybe you can bring that part back.” She told him and finally, he looked up at her and smiled a shy, quiet little thing of a smile.

“You think so?” He started strumming something that sounded like a lullaby and Disaster yawned as she sat back in her chair, enjoying the quiet music and the stillness of the night.

“Yeah. I do.”


End file.
